


Baby steps (or 'Yahaba's guide to applying eyeliner on a grumpy puppy')

by fickleauthor



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, also eyeliner, and some developing feelings, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6352588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fickleauthor/pseuds/fickleauthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yahaba finds Kyoutani exactly where he expects the latter to be: in the toilet.</p><p>"What do you want?" Kyoutani's tone is pure venom. There's a dark smudge under his left eye, an uncapped eyeliner pencil lying beside the hand soap.</p><p>Or: the one where Kyoutani comes to school with a fractured arm, and Yahaba decides to help him preserve his reputation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby steps (or 'Yahaba's guide to applying eyeliner on a grumpy puppy')

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is, honestly. A baby step in the direction of 'fuck you' to writer's block, I suppose.
> 
> Thank you [herekittie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/herekittie/pseuds/herekittie) for helping me decide on a title and for taking the time to read this!!

On their first day of school as third years, Kyoutani walks into class with a cast around his right arm, making him look like he was swinging a club around. No one dares to comment on it, and no one offers to sign it for him. If Kyoutani feels Yahaba's gaze on him, he doesn't react to it. 

An uncomfortable hush falls over the class as Kyoutani skulks over to his seat, students nearly twitching in anticipation of a good rumor, potential guesses of how the infamous Mad Dog got injured already flitting through their minds. Words like "gangs" and "street fight" are evident in the tilted corners of their lips, in the less than subtle flicking of their eyes in Kyoutani's direction. Kyoutani seems to pay them no mind, glancing around him in annoyance the same way one might acknowledge an irritating fly. 

Yahaba watches as Kyoutani attempts to slip his bag over his head and toss it onto his desk like he usually would. 

Unfortunately, the cast is cumbersome, and Kyoutani's left hand isn't as dexterous as his right. The strap of his bag gets caught in the juncture of his elbow where skin and cast meet, and the bag misses the table by a few short inches, instead falling uselessly against his knee with a "thump". 

Yahaba hadn't thought it was possible for the silence to get _more_ deafening. Then again, Kyoutani has always been a contentious little shit. Yahaba really shouldn't have been surprised that Kyoutani would prove him wrong, even if the latter had done so completely unintentionally.

Now a living thing, the silence feeds off the tense atmosphere, as though the entire school was holding its breath, waiting to see how Kyoutani will react. 

If the class had been hoping for an explosive reaction, they didn't get one.

Kyoutani snaps his gaze up, his glare a sharpened knife, daring anyone to laugh. It's then that Yahaba notices that something's different about Kyoutani's face. Something's missing...

A second passes; no one laughs. Yahaba hears the boy beside him swallow loudly.

Before Yahaba can figure out what Kyoutani's face is missing, the latter grabs something from the side pocket of his bag, dumps his bag on the ground beside his desk, and storms out of the room.

Yahaba waits a few minutes-for appearance sake-and tries to ignore the stares he can feel boring into his skull when he finally heads out of the classroom. 

* * *

Yahaba finds Kyoutani exactly where he expects the latter to be: in the toilet. He doesn't jump when he hears a frustrated growl, nor does he react to the glare Kyoutani shoots him from the mirror above the sink.

"What do you want?" Kyoutani's tone is pure venom. There's a dark smudge under his left eye, an uncapped eyeliner pencil lying beside the hand soap. 

The faucet groans as water continues to spurt from it into Kyoutani's cupped palm. It drips over the sides of Kyoutani's hand and through the cracks between his fingers.

"Idiot," is all Yahaba says before he starts forward. He feels more than sees Kyoutani bristle, and half expects the latter to either throw a punch or shove him away. He doesn't count on Kyoutani remaining docile, glare notwithstanding, as he pulls his hand out from under the tap. 

Yanking a paper towel from the conveniently placed dispenser, Yahaba wets it under the faucet before shutting it off.

"Lean." Yahaba gestures to the sink with a jerk of his head, his hair flopping over his eyes. Kyoutani complies with a snort, and folds his arms across his chest as he plants himself down on the edge of the sink. 

"Look up," Yahaba says when Kyoutani seems to remain hell bent on continuing their (one-sided) glaring contest. 

Instead of looking up normally, Kyoutani chooses to roll his eyes in exaggerated annoyance, stopping with his gaze fixed on the ceiling. Yahaba briefly entertains the thought of jabbing Kyoutani's eyes with the folded paper towel. 

Kyoutani's skin is warm, even through the damp tissue, and Yahaba tries to ignore the tingling in his fingers and the answering flutter in his stomach, as he wipes at the messy, smudged black line ringing the former's eye. 

Neither speaks while Yahaba works, carefully and gently removing the stubborn stain. They're standing so close Yahaba can feel the ghosts of each rise and fall of Kyoutani's chest against his own. 

There's a weight to the silence, familiar and foreign all at once, like the feeling has swelled since the last time Yahaba had been around Kyoutani, ballooning uncomfortably against his ribs.

A part of him wonders if Kyoutani feels it too.

Yahaba knows that if he doesn't say something, anything, to break the silence, he'll be forced over a precipice into acknowledging something too large and clumsy, something he wasn't ready to come to terms with yet.

"So-" He says, and he feels Kyoutani's lashes brush against his fingers as Seijou's current ace glances down at him. "What's the story?"

He doesn't expect much of an answer, and isn't surprised when Kyoutani merely says, "...Dog."

"Got bit?" Yahaba prompts, despite knowing how unlikely it was that Kyoutani got bitten. Dogs loved Kyoutani, and Kyoutani loved all nonhuman animals. 

Kyoutani snorts as if to say "yeah, right". 

Yahaba raises his brows and meets Kyoutani's gaze. "Well?"

It's a few minutes before Kyoutani relents, and by that time, Yahaba is almost certain he's never going to know what happened. 

"A puppy got her entire leg stuck in a grate." A bead of water, murky-grey from the eyeliner residue, seeps from the paper towel and rolls down Kyoutani's cheek. Yahaba's about to wipe the droplet away with a hastily procured dry tissue when Kyoutani's tongue darts out to swipe at the droplet.

Yahaba's nose scrunches in disgust. Kyoutani seems to find this amusing, his glare softened by the slightest hitch along the corner of his lip. 

"Anyway," Kyoutani continues as though he hadn't been interrupted. "I lifted the grate to get her leg out but she got spooked because some bastard blew his horn as he drove past. She nearly jumped into the open drain, so I let go of the grate to catch her." A pause. 

If Yahaba hadn't been so close, he might've missed the slight dusting of pink along Kyoutani's cheeks. _Was he embarrassed?_

"Grate fell on my arm. So now it's fractured." 

Yahaba opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off.

"I'm still going to practice – I heal fast. In the mean time, I'll learn how to spike with my left hand." 

Yahaba barks a laugh. "You're awfully confident for someone who just butchered his eyeliner." He tosses the paper towels in the trash, and grabs the eyeliner pencil off the sink. The heat from Kyoutani's glare fades as he realizes what Yahaba intends to do.

"Wait-" He makes a grab for Yahaba's hand, but Yahaba sidesteps out of reach. 

"What?" Yahaba snaps in mild annoyance. "At this rate, we're going to miss the entire first period."

"It's homeroom," Kyoutani deadpans. "'Sides, like hell I'm letting you near my eyes with that." He shoots the eyeliner pencil the dirtiest look Yahaba's ever seen.

Yahaba sighs. If he spends any more time in Kyoutani's company, he's certain he'll eventually detach his optic nerves from rolling his eyes too hard. 

"Oh _come on_. You did it with your left hand. There's no way I can be _that_ bad."

Kyoutani opens his mouth, seems to think better of it, and blows air noisily through his nose as he settles back against the sink. 

Yahaba hides his grin behind a cough – no victory against Kyoutani is too small.

He moves to place his fingers on Kyoutani's cheek. Instantly, he feels the other tense under his hand. 

Without thinking, he nudges Kyoutani's knee with his own. "Look up," he says, meeting Kyoutani's visibly apprehensive stare. "And relax. I've done this before."

Kyoutani raises his brow at that, his curiosity evidently piqued, but Yahaba waves him off. "Just trust me. Besides, if I'd wanted to poke your eyes out, I'd have done so already." 

"Comforting," Kyoutani says dryly. "'Course it's the innocent looking ones that turn out to be sadists."

Yahaba smiles sweetly, waving the eyeliner pencil in front of Kyoutani's face. "Not the smartest thing to do – insulting someone in a position of power."

Kyoutani knocks his knee against Yahaba's. Yahaba returns the favor by shoving Kyoutani's shoulder–the one not attached to his fractured forearm. 

This time, Kyoutani doesn't tense up when Yahaba places a steadying hand on his cheek. He does, however, flinch the moment the pencil liner brushes his lower waterline. 

It takes awhile for Kyoutani to relax, but as Yahaba's strokes become more sure, his fingers gently angling the former's face to suit his needs, he feels Kyoutani go pliant under his touch.

There's a certain intimacy in applying someone's makeup, Yahaba finds out, though he isn't so sure he'd feel this way with just anyone. He tucks that thought away for later, when he can't feel Kyoutani's warm breath like the whisper of kisses against his lips.

If anyone notices their absence during first period - and Yahaba is sure everyone did - they don't mention it. Yahaba is certain this has something to do with Kyoutani's dagger-like glare, ten times more potent now with his trademark eyeliner.

What Yahaba does not realize though, is that the smile he wore upon their return to class did little to soften the murderous aura he'd unconsciously been emitting, effectively warding off any nosy questions.

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, this was fun to write. It's not very big on plot though, but I'm thinking of adding to this. Eventually. Like "Kyouhaba's toilet adventures" or something. I don't know yet. Thank you for reading!


End file.
